A/N: This is my first Divergent fanfic, so I had to make it Trinine.
Thanks to my Beta & OTT for helping me with this story.
I do not own the rights to any of this, just having fun.
Enjoy!
"It is your self-destructive behaviour, why else would you find yourself coming here?" The words were cool and destructive against her neck and they made her shiver. She was right, always right.
"I came here because it was the right thing to do. I chose Dauntless because I needed to feel free."
"But Erudite? It never crossed your mind?" She leaned in again, sitting her down in the chair in front of her. Her heels clicked the ground as she walked to the other chair, sitting down and crossing her legs.
"You know that it did." She hated how she asked questions to which she already knew the answer, only to observe the response. It made her feel as if she was a lab rat, but oddly, she also enjoyed being observed, being watched.
There was a moment of silence as Tris shifted in her chair, the harsh Erudite lights making her skin glow. She abruptly stood and the guards stepped to restrain her, but Jeanine put up a hand to stop them. She wasn't afraid of Tris. Or at least, she wanted to pretend she wasn't afraid of her.
"I came here so that you would stop killing innocents." Tris paced back and forth trying her best to calm her nerves.
"You can be predictable. Your Abnegation upbringing is deeply rooted in your program." Jeanine pushed her glasses up her nose and examined Tris, Jeanine watched how Tris stopped pacing and sat not in the chair, but on the coffee table so that she was just inches away from her. Their legs touching, skin on skin contact. Jeanine wanted to recoil from the sudden contact, but she stayed firm, unwilling to move or compromise.
Tris, at first said nothing. She just looked at Jeanine and stared into her cold grey eyes. What had happened to her that made her this way? She didn't feel like it was inherently Erudite, but something else. She had distanced herself from humanity so far, she wondered...
"Do you see yourself as a machine as well?" Tris asked. This question caught Jeanine off guard, Tris could tell. Her eyes dilated quickly and then returned to normal.
"I see humanity as deeply flawed, as deeply destructive. I see machines helping us reach a transcendence, a symbiosis if you will." Each word was carefully selected. Her voice was almost void of emotion.
"Machines can't feel, Jeanine." Tris said, carefully, softly. "Have you forgotten human contact?" Tris gently ran her index finger against Jeanine's leg, the inner soft spot between her knee and the hem of her blue pencil skirt. Jeanine gasped and sharply inhaled, surprised and curious.
"Perhaps," Jeanine stopped, her words caught in her throat. Tris' hand moved further up her leg, her fingers finding their way underneath her skirt, tracing circles as they moved upward, Jeanine gently put her hand onto Tris', stopping her in her progression. Jeanine exhaled softly, her thighs trembling, "you are less predictable than I originally thought." Jeanine stood and walked away signaling to the guards to take Tris away.
Tris paced back and forth in her cell, she finally sat down on the hard bed and stared at the cameras in each corner. She knew she was being watched and she knew it was probably Jeanine observing her. The walls were light panels, dim now, but they made her feel as if she was a lab rat under observation.
She knew this to be true.
She couldn't explain why she did what she just did. Why she felt the need to touch Jeanine seductively, but she felt as if she needed it, as if she needed to be touched. She still held a lot of preconceived ideas about Erudite, how cold and calculated they were, seeking knowledge and advancing technology to the point of the destruction of humanity. Knowledge is everything. The mind continuously prioritized over body. She had heard rumors that they even prefer the buzz of a machine to the physical contact of another human. Stereotypes.
Coming here was probably a mistake, one that would end with her death. This, she was certain of, she felt the ache in her body as the realization began hitting her. She was drowning. She put her head between her hands and breathed deeply, slowly, trying to make her heart calm down. She felt sick. Tris suddenly stood and rushed over to the toilet, puking what little contents she had in the metal bowl. She could see her reflection at the bottom of the basin. Her short hair, hitting just below her jaw. She looked tired. Older. She had aged so much in such a short amount of time. She stood, shakily, gaining her balance and splashing cold water over her face.
Her right shoulder still stung when she moved it too suddenly. She wiped her face on the sleeve of her shirt. Her father would have scolded her for this behavior. She made the choice to be the sacrifice and she should be honored and humbled to help as many people as she could. It was the best she could hope for.
But these were lies Abnegation told their children, Tris thought, no one truly believed these principles did they? Truly believed them?
It's your divergence, it makes you incredibly alone in this world. Her thoughts, her patterns, her behaviors fell outside the confines of any one faction. She tried to regain some sort of self confidence again, but it was fleeting.
She came to be experimented on and die.
She was no more special than anyone else.
Jeanine sat at her desk of her apartment office. She stared at the monitor, watching Tris stare at herself in the mirror.
It must be difficult for her to be able to look at herself, Abnegation doesn't allow vanity. Jeanine thought. She's Divergent. Do not forget, she does not fall into one faction category.
Jeanine couldn't help but be fascinated by her. Not only was she Divergent, she had the aptitude for 3: Dauntless, Abnegation and Erudite. This was difficult for Jeanine to understand, how one could have thought patterns to all three, this was the most divergence she had seen, which made her wonder if one could have even more. There was still so much of the human brain that she needed to learn, to understand if she was going to ensure all of their survival. Knowledge leads to prosperity, and in this it is to ensure our survival.
She pushed away from her desk then, standing and placing a hand against the wall, leaning and breathing. It was when she reminded herself how delicate the situation was, how so much of the survival of everyone was up to her, that she felt her body betray her.
The body is weak in comparison to the mind, it betrays us faster than our mind ever could, rendering us useless and weak.
Her breath quickened and her heart raced, she felt light headed. Her knees began to buckle, but she quickly slid to the floor, putting her head in between her hands and concentrating on her breathing. Breath in, slowly, now out slowly. She did this for awhile until her heart slowed and she stood again, slowly taking off her heels one at a time and walked to her bedroom.
She placed her shoes in their spot, carefully and with organization next to her other similar pairs. She looked herself in the mirror, her soft blonde hair was pinned back, her grey eyes looked sunken and tired. She was tired, exhausted. Her mind was awake, but her body, once again, her body, betrayed her. She unpinned her hair and let it fall freely around her face.
Her mother would have told her she looked wild, like Dauntless, being wild was not an Erudite trait, and she would pin it back tight and neat. As if the books she read cared about her appearance. It was not the material she was studying that would care about her appearance, she would remind herself, even as a young child, but those around her. If she ever hoped to have any influence over those around her, how she looked, acted and felt would be crucial to the formation of her perceived self.
She took off her soft white blouse, folding it and putting in the laundry basket. Next came her skirt, it hugged her body tightly, even after she undid the zipper, she still had to peel herself out of it. Her fingers touched her inner thigh and a tremble cascaded through her body, followed by a sudden warmth.
Why did she touch me? And why so intimately? Or, is it a better question, why did you allow it?
She stripped away her bra and panties and looked at herself in the mirror. Her body wasn't as tight as it was in her younger days, but she didn't mind the softness of her curves now. She ran a hand over the softness of her belly. Jeanine remembered the years she spent hating her body, hating how it looked and how she would punish it for her own illogical thoughts and patterns. She, like many in her faction, would often be consumed by self control. Self control is a commonality in many faction experiences, but each one manifests itself differently. Nowadays she tried to control the amount of sleep she needed, hoping her body would give her just one or two more hours a day. She frowned, in the end, her body's needs always were the victor.
Jeanine turned from the mirror, and laid in her bed. The white sheets enveloped her body and laid plush on top of her. She was cold tonight, but mostly, she felt alone. She turned off the light and turned to her side staring into darkness. She was respected and feared by her colleagues, she knew she was harsh, cold and calculating. She had to be, especially with so much at stake. She took her job and her faction seriously; knowledge, she knew, would set them free from their destructive human behavior.
She often felt overwhelmed, but there was never time to show weakness.
She turned to her other side, her thighs rubbing together and her body tingled again, radiating from right below her stomach, outward. She closed her eyes.
Why did I allow her to touch me?
Jeanine was curious, always curious. She made a mental note to explore Tris' behavior further.